


Hotel California Part 2: Hidden in the Shadows

by carolroi (CarolROI)



Series: Hotel California [4]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Related, F/M, S/M, Series, b/d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:18:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolROI/pseuds/carolroi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair and Julia begin to uncover the damage his association with Jim's violent world caused him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hotel California Part 2: Hidden in the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains scenes of safe, sane and consensual B/D and S/M. It also has pairings of Blair/F, Blair/M and Blair/F/M. Enemas and women topping men are also found within. If these are not your things, click the back button now. 
> 
> If this sort of story interests you, let me give you some background information on it. When I started this experiment in progress, I challenged myself to write the hottest, steamiest erotica I could think of. I had also been reading a good deal of erotica written by men. Men write sex tales different than women do. They're more interested in the mechanics and the getting off than the emotional element (though that is here as well). To challenge myself even further, this is written in Blair's point of view, as a man (or as close as I can get) would write it. Somewhere in there, a plot happened amid the PWP sex.

I awake in the morning to the insistent pull of my body's discomfort. I'm instantly aware of the plug in my ass, the lingering tenderness from Mistress Julia's spanking, and a desperate need to piss. I've just pushed the blanket off and am sitting up when Julia enters from the bathroom. She's dressed already, in a pair of leather pants with open lacing up the sides, a leather halter top that gives the illusion of deep cleavage, and stiletto heeled boots. She takes one look at my half-hard cock and unhooks my chain. "Come on, pet." 

She leads me into the bathroom, and allows me to stand as she raises the toilet seat. I'm about to go when I'm shocked to feel her hand pointing my penis in the right direction. I tense up, uncertain of what I'm supposed to do. 

"Just reminding you that this is mine, along with the rest of you, slave. You will not be allowed to relieve yourself without permission. If you do, you will be punished. Do you understand?" 

I nod, swallowing hard, feeling very small. "Yes, Mistress. May I go?" 

"Very good. You're getting the hang of this very quickly. Yes, you may." She holds onto my cock until I'm finished, then cleans it off with a baby wipe she pulls from the container on the back of the toilet. She washes her hands in the sink, then leads me back into the bedroom. 

She makes me kneel facing the bed, and the pressure of her hand against the back of my neck bends me over the mattress. I wait, listening as she opens the nightstand drawer and rustles around inside. I inhale slowly, my heart racing in anticipation. She turns toward me, her hand stroking my ass, her fingers closing around the base of the plug inside me. She rocks it and I groan. "Pretty tender, hmm, precious?" 

"Yes, Mistress." Closing my eyes, I dig my fingers into the bedcovers. She pulls gently on the plug, twisting it back and forth. Sweat is trickling under my collar and down my throat, and I'm panting when she finally removes it. 

She rubs my back in small circles, telling me I'm a good boy. She continues stroking me with one hand, as the other moves down the crack of my ass, massaging cooling lube onto my sensitized anus. A cry escapes me, and I grip the sheets tighter as two fingers enter me. Pressing down on the small of my back, she stops my efforts to squirm away from her probing. "Easy, easy, pet." I quit moving, but my whole body shudders as she applies more lube, her fingers opening and closing, stretching me. "Very good, you're starting to open up. You're nice and soft." I gasp as a third finger penetrates me, then moan. 

Julia skillfully works me for several minutes, her fingers moving back and forth. The discomfort finally eases, and the tension in my body relaxes. I go limp. "Good boy. That's not so bad, now is it?" She leans over me, kissing the back of my neck, her teeth sinking gently into my skin. I arch my head back, groaning loudly as she pushes her fingers in deeper. "That's it, pet. You are so beautiful like this, all sweaty and trembling." She fucks me slowly with her fingers, brushing my prostate. The sensation is intense, like fireworks exploding inside me, and I yell. "I love it when you cry out. That feels so good, doesn't it?" 

"Yessss, Mistress." I'm writhing on the bed, trying desperately not to be bad and climax, but I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on. At the moment I feel I can't keep it back any longer, she pulls her fingers out. "No, no, no," I moan. 

Something smacks my ass hard. "No talking back, slave." She hits me again, and any lingering pleasure turns to pain. "Someone's not counting." 

I sob out "One," with the next slap. Nine more later, she's done, and tosses the wooden hairbrush she used down on the bed next to me. 

"On your back, slave." 

I roll over, and she tells me to pull my legs to my chest and hold them apart. I comply, feeling tears leaking from the corner of my eyes. I hate this position. I feel open and exposed, my ass and genitals unprotected. 

She puts her forearm against the back of my thighs, leaning her weight on it, effectively immobilizing me. Her other hand inserts a new, thicker plug into my ass, forcing it past my abused muscle's resistance. "You'll feel that all day, slave, moving inside you with every breath you take." I'm sobbing as she releases me, ordering me to put my legs down. 

I do, but I find myself shaking uncontrollably, my body on sensation overload. My ass burns inside and out, and my cock and balls feel like they're about to split open, they're so tight. 

Julia bends over me, placing her hand on my chest, right over my pounding heart. I'm hiccuping like mad, unable to take a deep breath, and I'm praying I don't go into a full blown panic attack. She says something I can't understand over the roaring in my ears. She grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her. Her lips move and I realize she's saying "Time out," her signal that she, as master of this scene, has decided I need a break. 

Lifting my legs onto the bed, she turns me on my side and sits down next to me. Pulling me close to her side, she rubs my chest and stomach in long, soothing strokes, her other hand in my hair. "Close your eyes, precious. Now concentrate on breathing in and out, nice and slow." 

I clutch her hand, holding it to my chest as I try to follow her instructions. It takes almost ten minutes for me to fully calm down. When I do, I roll onto my back and look up at her. "I'm sorry, Mistress," I apologize. 

Leaning down, Julia kisses my forehead. "It's all right, Blair. But next time you feel like you're getting to that point, I expect you to use your safe word. I'm going to be very cross if I keep having to be the one to call time out." 

Biting my lip, I nod. Smiling at me, she runs her index finger over my chest, circling my right nipple, then rolling it lazily between her thumb and finger. I whimper. 

"Yes, I remember you like that. Once we start working in the play room, I'll put some clamps on you." She squeezes the tender nub, slowly increasing the pressure until I moan. Releasing it, she rubs it hard, forcing blood back into it. It stings, and I suck in a breath. She switches her attention to my other nipple, and asks, "So how come you're not wearing my ring?" 

The memory rushes back sharp and clear. Me tied down on a bench, my body pleasantly tired from one of the best orgasms of my life. Julia's straddling me, swabbing my left nipple with sterile wash, then pinching it between her gloved fingers, pulling it taut as she pushes the large needle through. The sensation is incredible, intense and erotic. She hooks the ring on the end of the needle and pulls it though. A steel bead is screwed onto the ring, closing it. She cleans it with alcohol, then steps back to let me view it unobstructed. The sight of that circle of steel going through my nipple turns me on, and I'm getting hard again. Laughing, Julia wraps her hand around my cock, calling me insatiable, then stroking me to another fantastic orgasm. 

Julia's quick twist of my nipple brings me back from the past. "So, you going to answer me or not?" 

"Um, yeah." I let out a sigh. "A couple years ago, I was in the hospital. I had to have surgery, and they took it out. By the time I got out, the hole had closed and I couldn't put it back in." 

"Oh, pet, I'm sorry. I know how much you liked it, and how much you liked me playing with it." She kisses my nipple tenderly, then peers up at me. "I can pierce it again, if you want, pierce both nipples." Her hand trails down my stomach, and she begins lightly stroking my smooth pubic mound. 

"I'd like that, Mistress," I tell her, "but not right away. I don't deserve to bear your mark yet." 

She smiles at me, sensing I'm ready to resume play. "That's right, you don't. You haven't been a very satisfactory slave up to this point. You're going to need a lot of training." She grasps my semi-erect cock just behind the head, running her thumb up the underside of it and over the tip. "You know what would be incredibly hot on you? A Prince Albert piercing." 

I wince. The thought of a ring in my cock...is making me very hard, I realize in surprise. I am so sick. "I'll think about it, Mistress," I manage, avoiding making a decision one way or the other. 

"Very good." She picks up some straps from the nightstand. "One more thing and we'll go to breakfast. You remember this?" She crumples the straps into a ball and rubs them over my pubic area and the inside of my thighs. 

I groan. "It's a cock harness, Mistress." 

"And it belongs on you, my pretty slave." Untangling the three interconnecting straps, she buckles one around the base of my erection, pulling it snug. The second strap is attached to the bottom of the one around my cock so that they look like a figure eight. She fastens it around the top of my balls. It's wide, and it pushes them down and forward slightly. The third strip of leather runs from the back of the second one and fastens in front. It bisects my balls and separates them. She tightens that strap until I moan. 

The harness is another part of being Julia's slave I enjoy. I love the feel of the leather against my skin, and it keeps me partially aroused at all times. It's a heady feeling. She runs her finger under each strap, making sure they're tight, but won't cut off circulation. Satisfied, she picks up my leash. "Come on, pet. Let's go get some breakfast." 

* * *

Breakfast is another lesson in proper slave behavior. Two places are set at the kitchen table, and Patrick is already sitting at one, spreading butter on a slice of toast. Julia ruffles his hair as she passes him, and leads me to a child size table in the corner of the room. She hooks my leash on the ring set in the wall for that purpose. 

She walks over to the stove, and scoops something from a pan into a dish. "I used to make my slaves eat from a dog bowl on the floor, but it was just too messy. I'd end up having to give a clean slave a bath again. Now I use this." She sets the bowl, which contains oatmeal, in front of me, along with a spoon and a glass of milk. I eat slowly, not sure how my still tender stomach will react to the first food I've had in almost eighteen hours. 

It dawns on me that Julia has prepared for that by giving me something bland, another sign that she knows exactly what she's doing. My sense of security grows. I can turn myself over to her, and know that she'll keep me safe, that as my Mistress, she won't push me beyond my endurance and let me get hurt. There's a big difference between pain that doesn't permanently harm, and deliberately causing serious injury. I've met doms who didn't understand that concept, whose goal was to inflict as much pain as possible on their subs regardless of the consequences. Keith, who lived here when I was here before, was one of those. A shiver runs down my spine. I'm very glad Julia never let him work with me, no matter how many times he asked. 

When the morning meal is finished, I'm ordered to do the dishes. Julia leans her back against the counter next to the sink, keeping an eye on me as she discusses the day's appointments with Patrick. 

I watch her gaze run up and down his smooth, muscular body, checking his appearance. Patrick's attire consists of his collar, an open leather vest, and black chaps that leave his genitals and ass exposed. Curiously, he's not wearing any shoes. "You're missing something, Patrick," she chastises him. "Where is your harness?" 

"Sorry, Mistress." He picks it up from the counter and hands it to her. 

She smiles at him. "Ah, I see. You just wanted me to put it on for you." She fastens the straps around his cock and balls, and he makes much the same noises as I did when she bound me. The sight of her touching him, along with the sound, triggers my own arousal, and I feel the harness binding me tighten as I swell. 

She's stroking his cock when she catches me looking and laughs. "Always the observer, aren't you, pet? Watching gets you hot." She wraps the fingers of her free hand around my cock and lightly pumps it in the same rhythm she's using on Patrick. "I can tell I'm going to have a lot of fun with the two of you. Once you've gotten used to the routine, I'll have to do a scene with the both of you." 

The phone rings, and she lets go of Patrick so he can answer it. She releases me as well, and I turn my attention back to the dishes, trying to ignore the sensations pulsing through me. Moving to stand behind me, Julia tickles the back of my neck, then runs her hands leisurely down my back, her nails lightly scratching. She kneads my buttocks, and I hiss as the motion shifts the plug inside me. She nips at my ear, her breath warm as she says, "I know, pet, it's uncomfortable. But think of all the delicious things I'll be able to do once you've loosened up." 

For an instant those thoughts cross my mind, and I drop a juice glass on the floor. Fortunately it's plastic and doesn't break. She slaps my ass. "You let your dick get in the way of your chores and you're going to be in trouble." 

Patrick returns then, and she foregoes punishing me further. "So, who do you have this morning?" 

He sighs. "Ed, the foot guy. I wish you'd take him once in while, Mistress." 

She laughs. "Why? You don't enjoy having your toes sucked?" Well, that explains Patrick's bare feet. 

He makes a face. "Not for an hour." 

Julia scratches my stomach lightly. "Well, we get Blair broken in a bit, and Ed can suck his toes while you concentrate on spanking him." She chews her lip, her expression thoughtful. "In fact, I think that's a really good idea. I can do some restraint work with Blair, and Ed can get some variety." 

"Okay," Patrick says, and writes it down in a big appointment book sitting on the counter. "He's here next Thursday at ten. I'll mark you as busy for that time." 

She nods. "What else? I have Barbara at one, then I was planning a session with Blair, and some time in the play room after that. You have anything else today?" 

"Dentist appointment at three. And I was going to run to the grocery." 

"Can we hold off on shopping until Saturday? I want Blair to take over most of the cooking." She addresses me. "I'll give you some time either today or tomorrow to go through the pantry and make up a menu plan for next week, and a grocery list. 

A buzzer sounds and Patrick checks the small video screen by the phone. "There's Ed." He starts to leave, then turns around. "We are still on for tomorrow, right, Mistress?" 

"Yes, my evening's clear." 

He grins and shudders in what I guess is anticipation, then fairly skips from the room. 

Julia turns to me and picks up my leash. "Poor boy's overdue for a serious workout from me. What I have planned for tomorrow night should satisfy his needs." 

I put the last dish in the drainer, and let the water out of the sink, then drop to my knees. 

She leads me out of the kitchen, talking over her shoulder. "I'll let you watch my session with Patrick. I think you'll find it interesting, and arousing." Looking down at me, she winks. 

For the next ten minutes, she gives me a tour, showing me the living room, the other bedrooms, including one that is to be mine, as soon as she feels I'm ready. My stuff is sitting on the bed, and she tells me that tomorrow I can wash my clothes and put my things away. 

Down another hallway is the computer room. "This is the heart of the Hotel, pet. Everything recorded by the cameras is streamed through one of our servers. Subscribers who visit the site can take a virtual tour of the house, and spend as much time as they want in any room that holds their interest. They can also pick a camera and zoom in for close-ups. It's worked very well. Patrick's become quite the little geek. He maintains all this, plus the site, as well as burning CDs of our best scenes and parties for sale." 

I gaze around the small room, which is wall to wall servers and processors and CD burners, with three desktop computers currently flipping through different camera views. In one, I catch sight of my ass sticking out into the hallway through the open computer room door. Another shows the playroom, where Patrick is seated on a plush chair. A rather portly man wearing a leather bondage hood and what appears to be a thong is running his tongue between Patrick's toes while the dom snaps a flogger over his ass. I suddenly don't feel quite so ashamed of my desires. 

"You'll get to see the play room later this afternoon." Julia tugs on the leash, and I follow her back toward the front of the house. Finally she stops outside a door, unlocking it with a key. Through the doorway I can see bookshelves along the walls, a couple file cabinets, a desk with a computer, and a large sofa. 

Leading me inside, Julia unhooks my leash from my collar. I sit back on my heels uncertainly. This is the first time my leash has been off since I arrived. 

"Stand up, Blair." I obey as she crosses to the file cabinets and opens a drawer. "This is my office. There are no cameras here. It's where I take off my dominatrix hat and put on my therapist one. It's also the only place you are not a slave. So feel free to look around, take a seat, while I get your forms." 

I sit down gingerly on the couch. The leather is buttery soft, and quickly warms to my body heat. "Forms?" I ask. 

Plopping a folder on the desk, Julia flips through it. "Umm hmm. Standard stuff." She glances up at me. "Any idea how long you'll be staying?" 

The question catches me off guard. I haven't thought that far ahead. I do a quick bit of mental calculating. The sale of the Volvo netted me a couple thousand, enough to keep my creditors at bay for a short while. "I can probably stay about two months full time. After that, I'll need to get a job to keep up with my loan payments." 

The look she gives me is sympathetic. "Sucks, doesn't it? I'm still paying on my student loans, too." She pulls a sheet of paper out of the folder. "But you won't have to worry about a job. Anyone who lives in the Hotel 24/7 gets a percentage of the website profits. The amount varies from month to month, depending on site traffic, but we certainly aren't starving, though we haven't paid off all the loans we took out when we remodeled and made the house internet friendly. You just have to fill out some tax information." She opens another folder. "I will need you to fill out this release form, allowing us to use your image on the site, and outlining the compensation terms. I'll need to know about any medical conditions you have, physical limitations, bad back, asthma, diabetes etc. Also, when was the last time you had an HIV test? Guess it doesn't really matter, I'll be scheduling you a visit with our doctor ASAP." 

"Umm, it was a while ago. I can give you the name of the hospital." I sigh. "They have most of my medical records from the past few years. I haven't had unprotected sex since then, though." 

Julia leans back in her chair and taps a pen against her cheek. "Good. House rules are no unprotected penetration and no bloodshed. Oral sex is at your discretion, but both Patrick and I are clean. I require confirmation of HIV status from the people we pay to appear at any parties or special events we hold, but clients are another story. Condom use by them is mandatory, including oral sex. Don't let them tell you otherwise." 

I'm beginning to feel uneasy as she rattles off the conditions. "Umm, how much interaction will I have with clients?" 

She looks up from attaching the forms to a clipboard and sees my trepidation. She comes to sit beside me on the sofa. Setting the forms on the coffee table, she runs a hand along my cheek. "I'm sorry, precious. Am I scaring you?" 

"A little," I admit. 

"I don't mean to. You won't have any unsupervised contact with clients. In fact, you'll hardly see them at all. If I do ask you to participate in a scene, it'll be along the lines of what we'll be doing with Ed, which is giving him a new set of toes to service." She smiles at me. "He's really quite good at it, if you like that sort of thing." Giving me a hug, she says, "Don't worry, I'll protect you. I won't let you get involved in anything you can't handle, you know that." 

Closing my eyes, I hug her back. "I know, it's just...not exactly what I thought. I mean, the idea of being on camera, naked, I can handle. It's sort of like the summers Naomi and I spent at nudist camps, all look and no touch. But interacting with clients--that feels like prostitution." 

She rubs my back, making no move to release me. "I understand. I won't insist on it if you feel uncomfortable. But you have a week to think about it. You might change your mind." She kisses my cheek, then lets me go. "I have one more form for you to fill out; it's my bondage preference sheet." 

I nod. I'm familiar with it, since Julia used it with me when we were preparing my first scene five years ago. In great detail, it lists all forms and types of bondage and discipline play. The sub marks which they prefer, and the intensity, which ranges from mild to extreme. There's also plenty of room to fill in your own particular turn-ons. 

The final items she hands me are a legal pad and a pen. "This is for our talks, and will also aid me in helping you reach your goal of penance. I want you to make a list of everything you feel you need to atone for. I'm not talking your whole life here, I'm just interested in the last five years, from the time you left here before, until yesterday." 

"It'll still be a big list, but why just that time period?" 

Julia touches my face again, her thumb stroking my cheek. "You were happy when you left here. You had your degree, and you were going off on an expedition you were excited about. I want to know how you went from that joy-filled person to the hurting man I met last night." 

"That's what I want to know, too," I whisper. 

She kisses me tenderly, then says, "I promise you we will find out. I'm going to leave you alone for a couple hours to fill these out, and write your list. You can be as detailed as you want, and it doesn't have to be in any kind of order. In fact, just write things down as you think of them. You get thirsty, there's a mini-fridge in that cabinet behind the desk. Bathroom's through that door. And yes, in here, you don't need my permission to go." She gets to her feet. "Anything else you need? When I come back, we'll eat lunch, and talk." 

"No, I think I'm fine," I tell her. She bends down, kissing the top of my head, then leaves, shutting the door behind her. 

I'm alone for the first time since I offered myself into Julia's service. It feels weird, or maybe I just feel strange, sitting in this perfectly normal office, naked, with bits of leather wrapped round my privates and a big hunk of rubber shoved up my ass. I run my hand through my hair, and am momentarily startled by the lack of it. Tears sting my eyes, and I blink them back. I am so fucked up. 

Picking up the clipboard, I fill out most of the forms quickly, then take my time with the bondage preferences. I resist my urge to choose the most extreme of all the selections. I know that if I did, Julia would see it as me usurping her role, and making her not much more than the whip, so to speak, and me the master. She won't go for that at all. It's complicated, this unspoken agreement we've entered into. I come to her needing penance. In doing so, I agree to accept whatever punishment she metes out as sufficient. 

I put down the clipboard and pick up the legal pad. With all the pain I've caused Jim, and everyone else, I shouldn't have any problem convincing Julia that my punishment should be severe. 

* * *

When Julia returns, I'm still working on my list, though I am down to the lesser of my sins. I look up to see she's changed her clothes. She's now wearing a pair of faded jeans and a blue T-shirt, and carrying a tray of food. She sets it on the coffee table and smiles at me. "How's it going?" 

"I think I'm about done." I finish the sentence I was working on and stab a period at the end. Flipping back to the first page of my list, I hand it to her. 

She glances at it, then sets it down, taking a seat on the couch. "I brought lunch. Soup and sandwiches, and tea." 

I look at the food, then slowly pick up a grilled cheese sandwich. I'm not really hungry, but I'm not going to refuse her offer. She nods in approval as I take a bite, then picks up my list and reads it while I eat. 

She finishes about the same time I do. "I'll be right back," I tell her, then I go into the small half bath to relieve myself, and wash my hands. I'm nervous. I shouldn't be; I've had plenty of therapy over the years. _And look where you wound up._ I dry my hands, then re-enter the office. "Where do you want me?" 

She scoots back into the corner of the sofa and puts one leg up on the cushion, then pats the space in front of her. "Right here." Julia smiles at my uncertain expression. "I want you to sit in front of me and lean back against me." 

I do as she asks, still confused. "I thought I was supposed to be getting therapy." I lean back, and she slides one arm around my waist, and the other around my chest. Her bare arms are warm, and the cotton of her shirt is soft against my back. 

"You are. I just have a different approach to it than most therapists. I'm sure you're used to sitting in a chair across from them, looking them in the face, feeling uncomfortable talking about your problems. Always felt like an inquisition to me." She wiggles a little, until I'm nestled against her, my head leaning against her shoulder. "So I decided I would try some different things. Obviously, I wouldn't do this with a stranger, with someone who doesn't absolutely trust me. It would make them uncomfortable, and if you're uncomfortable, we can do it the other way." 

I shake my head. The physical contact is fulfilling a need I didn't realize I had, and my tension is leaving me. "No, this is okay." 

She presses her cheek against my hair. "Good. I only counsel people in the B and D lifestyle, and I've found that a lot of people who come to me as slaves crave attention, something, for whatever reason, they're not getting in their everyday lives. This way, they're getting positive reinforcement for talking about painful things. And, I can usually tell from physical reactions whether or not they're being truthful, or whether they're telling me what they think I want to hear." 

I bite my lip. I've been guilty of that way too often in therapy. "I've done that," I say, wanting to start off on the right foot, and maybe not sabotage my healing this time. 

"Good, good. I read your list, and see we have a lot of work ahead of us. What I want to focus on right now is what happened to you last month, the thing with your dissertation. But I have a question for you first. Jim Ellison--are you and he lovers?" 

I was expecting her to ask if Jim was a Sentinel, not this. I'm thrown off balance, which I think is the point. "I--no, no. We're not lovers. I'm not so sure now that we were even friends." God, that hurt to say. Julia's arms tighten around me, and I press my face into her neck, feeling those damn tears again. 

"I'm sorry, precious. I thought that would be a yes or no question, not one that would hurt you." Her hand comes up to stroke my cheek, and she kisses my forehead. "Take as much time as you need, I'll be here when you're ready to talk about it." 

After a few minutes, I manage to detach myself from the memories. "I'm okay. You wanted to know about my dissertation?" 

"Yes. I want to know what happened, why you held that heart-wrenching press conference. I didn't understand it. I've seen you do research, been interviewed by you for your masters thesis. You were meticulous, and absolutely dedicated to protecting your research subjects. So I can't believe you would have been so careless as to not protect Ellison the same way. And I know you would never falsify data." 

Sighing, I close my eyes, and say, "I didn't. Jim is a Sentinel. When I started the actual writing of my thesis, he read the introductory chapter, after I'd asked him not to. You know how those things are, dry and impersonal and full of technical jargon. He didn't understand that that's just the way they're written. He was hurt by being referred to as 'the subject', or a number. He was pissed as hell that I'd talked to his ex-wife, but I had to. I didn't know Jim before he had heightened senses; she did. I had to talk to her to understand what he was like before they appeared, to be able to identify what behaviors were his personality, and what were brought on by his senses. He didn't understand that." I can still hear the angry words in my head. 

_I'm pissed and I'm frustrated and maybe I haven't chosen my words so wisely, but damn it, I told him not to read it for just this reason. "Look, we have three years of our lives invested in this thing and I'm not going to start shading any of it because you're starting to feel a little threatened."_

_Jim pulls himself up to his full height and leans over me. "Threatened by you? I don't think so, Chief."_

_"What else do you call it?"_

_"I call it a violation of friendship and trust," he snarls, and stalks back into the station, leaving me feeling like scum._

Julia's voice interrupts my thoughts. "So, he felt you'd betrayed him." 

I nod. "Yeah. Maybe I did. I don't know. It's all so confused now. I mean, we talked later and he said he over-reacted. So, I went ahead with it. I should have read between the lines, should have seen that it still bothered him, that it always would. But I tried to make it easier for him. I wrote the first draft using his name. Yeah, I know I probably shouldn't have, but that version was just for us. He could read it and we could discuss it, and he wouldn't feel like a lab rat." 

She's rubbing my chest now, long, slow strokes that calm the emotions running though me. The memories are painful, but I'm safe here; they can't hurt me. 

She prods me to continue. "But that wasn't how it worked out, was it? Somehow the press got a hold of that version of your thesis." 

I nod. "My mom. I'd just finished the first draft when she came to visit. She was really excited for me; she knows how long I've been working on it. She wanted to read it, but I told her it was just the first draft, that it wasn't good enough." 

Julia interrupts me. "So she didn't know about Jim being a Sentinel?" 

I shake my head. "No, only me, Simon, who's Jim's captain, and Megan Connor knew. That's why I didn't want Naomi to read it. So I locked the hard copy up and left to meet Jim. Who knew my mom had entered the computer age? She was trying to be helpful, I know that, but she emailed the file to an editor friend of hers. Things spiraled out of control from there. I tried to stop it. Sid called me and I told him to burn the copy he had and forget he ever saw it. He didn't do it. He released excerpts of it to the press." I fall silent. 

She waits, patiently, and when I don't proceed, she says, "And?" I try to pull away from her, but she refuses to release me. "No, not now, Blair. It would make it too easy for you to lie to yourself, and to me." 

Breathing hard, I finally spit out the rest. "The next time Jim and I went out, we were ambushed by the press. They were yelling questions at him, sticking cameras in his face." 

"And his reaction?" 

Forget what I said earlier about the memories not being able to hurt me. I can still see Jim's pained, angry gaze, hear his words stabbing me, *"Chief, tell me you didn't!" * And all the words after that, each one chipping away a little bit more of my soul. 

"I can't...I can't talk about this anymore...Let me go!" 

Hugging me closer, she strokes my hair, telling me it's okay. After a few moments of half-hearted struggle, I give in, resting my forehead against her shoulder, letting her hold me. When the words come, they're whispered against her neck. "He--he thought I did it on purpose. He thought I betrayed him. And I realized he never trusted me...after all we'd been through, he just tolerated me, put up with me because I had something he needed--he was never my friend. And maybe he was right not to trust me. Maybe I was never his friend either." 

She holds me tighter, ignoring my tears tricking down her neck. "You'll have to decide that for yourself, Blair, but I don't believe it. You're not that kind of man." She's silent for several minutes, then says, "That's something for you to think about for tomorrow. We're done for today." But she makes no move to get up, and I'm grateful for that. I don't want to be alone right now. 

* * *

I'm not sure how long we lie there on the couch, but it's long enough that we change positions, and end up both stretched out, Julia behind me, holding me. Finally, she pats my butt, and sits up. "Come on, pet. Time for your workout in the play room." 

I slip off the sofa to kneel on the floor, and she hooks my leash to my collar, then leads me out of the office and to her bedroom. She changes from her jeans into what I can only describe as a chain metal bikini, and high, studded boots. Taking a latex glove out of the nightstand drawer, she puts it on, and I make a little moan in my throat, knowing what's coming. She pats the mattress, and I obediently lean over it. Her fingers stroke lightly over my ass, then grasp the base of the plug I've been wearing for six hours plus. She wiggles it back and forth, rubbing the small of my back as I groan. 

"That feel good, pet?" she asks, pulling it partway out and letting my body suck it back in. 

"Yessss. So good, Mistress." 

She twists it slowly, working it in and out, sending sparks racing along my nerve endings to burst into flame inside my cock. I can't help it; I start to thrust into the side of the bed. Slapping my ass lightly, Julia pulls the plug completely out of me, and I hiss in frustration. 

"Now, now. None of that. You were griping about it when I put it in, and now you're complaining when I take it out." She yanks on my leash, and pulls me up. "Come on. Time to go play." 

She takes me through the house to a part we haven't visited before, one I know was added on since I was last here. Opening the door to a room, she leads me inside. As I look around, it's obvious that a lot of thought went into it. The area is large enough for several small sets to fit within it. I see a school room with a blackboard and a teacher's and a child's desk, a doctor's office, or medical setting, and a typical dungeon type setting with a large wooden cross, a metal cage, and various types of restraints hanging on the walls. 

We bypass all of these for an area with a large padded mat on the floor. Whips, floggers, and paddles hang neatly from hooks on the wall, along with coils of rope, and leather straps. I recognize the table she's used with me many times before, and what looks like an unusual type of spanking stand. It's a padded leather kneeling bench set about eight inches from the ground. Slightly in front of the bench, but fastened to it at the base, is a padded two foot by two foot panel that looks like it can be raised, lowered and tilted. Attached around the sides of the panel are rings and straps for fastening a slave down. A shiver runs through me. 

Julia leads me to the middle of the mat and drops my leash. I sit back on my heels and watch as she takes down several sets of leather restraints and straps. "On your feet," she tells me. 

I stand, and she approaches me, dropping the pile of ties to the floor. Kneeling, she fastens a cuff around each ankle then fastens them together with a ten-inch strap. Longer cuffs are wrapped around the top of each of my thighs, but they are not fastened together. She lays four restraints over her arm and rises, telling me to put my hands behind my back. Straps are buckled around my arms just above the elbows, and around my wrists. She then fastens my right wrist to my left elbow with a snap ring, and does the same with my other arm. I can feel the pull in my shoulders, but it's not bad. 

Julia pulls down on my leash, and I kneel. She then fastens my ankles to my thighs in what I remember as the frog position. Again, it's slightly uncomfortable, but nothing major. One final tie is fastened around my crossed arms and around the strap between my ankles. She pets my head, and asks if I'm okay. "Yes," I answer, and she nods. 

Walking over to the wall, she takes down a leather hood and unzips it. "Okay, pet, the purpose of our little exercise today is to get you to focus on what you're feeling, not on what I'm doing. It's also designed to teach you to submit, that fighting me is only going to hurt in the long run. The hood is going to cut your vision and hearing, but leave you free to speak your safe word if your foot starts to go to sleep, or something's pinching. I will be right here the entire time." 

I nod to show I understand, and she slips the hood over my head, and zips it up, plunging me into a silent darkness. I can feel her still working on me, fastening something to my collar, hooking it to my cock harness, and pulling it tight. The strap between my wrists and ankles is shortened, and I'm bent backwards at an awkward angle, which immediately pulls on my cock, and makes my thighs start to burn. 

Her fingers stroke my chest, tugging at my right nipple. Sudden, sharp pain shoots through it, and I realize she's put a clamp on it. The same thing is quickly done to the left, and then she moves away from me. 

Breathe, man, breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You can do this. All you have to do is keep still. If you struggle, you'll make it worse. 

_Cold. Dark. Wet. Chains binding my hands and feet. My fingers fumbling at the buckles. Have to get free, have to! Numb, fingers too numb! Crawl! Gotta get away! He's coming! I can hear him coming! Don't wanna die, don't wanna die!_

Crying out, I jerk violently, feeling my bonds tighten. I throw my head back, which yanks at my genitals, making me yell, dropping me out of the nightmare for a moment. Stupid, stupid, Sandburg! Don't move. You're okay. Lash is dead. 

Panting, I try not to move, but my body shivers and twitches. Fingertips trail over my shoulder, nails scratching. I twist away from them, falling hard onto my side. Stars sparkle in front of my blind eyes. 

_Be still, be still, be still! Maybe he'll forget about you, maybe he'll find someone else to be! So cold, so cold, my head is pounding. He's touching me, undressing me, hands like ice against my skin, chanting, "Hairy Blairy, Hairy Blairy...." Frozen fingers tweaking my nipples. Oh god, oh god....pain..._

I'm bucking and writhing, screaming until my throat is raw. Weight lands on top of me, pinning me down, the darkness is torn from my eyes. Bright light blinds me. 

"Blair! Blair! Damn it, hold still!" 

Julia? Not the warehouse...not Lash. The pain I felt was her removing the clamps, not that psycho...I go limp, feeling her release the strap binding my arms to my feet, then the hooks holding my ankles to my thighs. She's freeing my arms then rolling me onto my back, catching my face in her hands. "Blair? Jesus, Blair, safe word, safe word, safe word!" 

"Peanut butter," I whisper, and everything goes black. 

* * *

A sharp, intense odor fills my nostrils, and I flinch away from the smell, opening my eyes. A hand is waving a broken ampoule of smelling salts under my nose. 

"That's it. Come on, Blair," Julia encourages me, and I realize I'm lying on my back on the mat, unfettered. 

"What happened?" 

"You fainted." 

I blink. "Fainted?" 

She frowns at me. "Yes, fainted. It happens sometimes. But it shouldn't have happened with you. Is there something you want to tell me?" One of her eyebrows arches upward. 

I swallow hard. "Sorry, Mistress. I should have used my safe word." 

Her fingers grip my chin tightly, and she stares into my eyes. "That's the second time today you've gotten in trouble and didn't safeword. I don't know what's going on with you, but we play by my rules or not at all. I am not going to let you hurt yourself, understand me?" 

I hang my head. "Yes, Mistress." I know now I should have spoke up at the first memory of Lash. The images tease at my mind again. Something happened in that cold, damp warehouse before Jim showed up... I shudder. I don't want to remember...Lash is dead. He can't hurt me. 

Julia pinches my cheek to get my attention. "Hey, stay with me. You didn't hurt yourself, did you? You don't feel like you're going to pass out again?" 

Shaking my head, I reply, "I'm a little sore, but I'll live." 

"Good." Grabbing me by my collar, Julia gets to her feet and drags me to the spanking stand. Pulling me up on the kneeling rail, she pushes my legs apart and straps them down. Letting go of me for a moment, she adjusts the padded platform to the right height for me and tilts it at a 45-degree angle. A rough push between the shoulder blades presses me against it. The bottom of the padded board comes to just above my hips, while the top is even with my shoulders. I can feel her pulling a strap across my lower back and buckling it tight. A snap hook is fastened to my collar then to a ring on the top of the board. I'm securely fastened down now, my body bent in an open "Z". I can wiggle, but not much more. Crossing my wrists behind me, she hooks the cuffs I'm still wearing together. She steps back to view her handiwork. 

Nodding curtly, Julia walks over to the wall covered in whips and paddles. I watch her as she debates, pulling several down one by one and testing them against her thigh. By the time she approaches me again, I'm shivering, and my cock is like granite. She tickles the tip of the implement she's chosen against my cheek. It's more of a strap than a paddle, a stiff piece of leather, perhaps 3 inches wide by 15 inches long, attached to a handle. It whistles through the air when she gives it a test swing. 

Grabbing a handful of my hair, she bends close, whispering in my ear. "I'm going to beat your ass, slave, until it's fire engine red. I'm not going to stop beating it until you beg me to. And you'd damn well better speak up when you do!" 

I swallow hard. "Yes, Mistress," I croak. She lets go of my hair and steps back. 

I brace myself for the blow I know is coming, but it's of no use. She strikes me full force on the tender underside of my buttocks. I howl, tears instantly springing to my eyes. 

I try in vain to count, but I'm soon lost in a haze of pain. The strap bites almost like a whip; I know it's raising welts. She works me over thoroughly, top to bottom, side to side, no inch of my ass or thighs going unpunished. I'm sobbing and screaming, but still can't say the words that will end my torture. Yet, I know if I don't, I won't be allowed to stay here. Finally, she concentrates her blows to the join between my cheeks and thighs, each one harder than the last. 

I can't take it any more. "Please, Mistress, stop! It hurts, oh god, it hurts! Peanut butter!" I scream. The blows stop, and I hear a faint thud as she drops the strap to the floor. I'm still crying, the sharp pain of her spanking giving over to a white-hot burning sensation in my ass and thighs. 

I feel her hands on my shoulders as she leans over me from behind, murmuring, "Shh, shh, precious. It's all over, all over." She rubs her hands up and down my arms as she kisses my temple. "Breathe, pet. In slowly, and then out slowly. That's it." Julia bends low over me, and I feel the brush of her bare breasts against my back. I realize the sound I heard before wasn't the strap hitting the floor, it was her metal outfit. 

My barely slowing heart rate begins to climb again. My cock is leaking heavily, the warm fluid trickling down my engorged shaft, at odds with the emotions filling me. Anxiety and pain war with lust. "Mistress..." I moan. 

She straddles me, rubbing her naked body up and down my back. "You like that, pet? You like how I feel against your skin? You are so hot, precious. All warm and sweaty." Her hands ghost over my still burning ass cheeks. "Your ass is on fire, baby, bright red, with beautiful welts." She pinches one and I choke back a scream. 

Her fingers entwine in my curls, lifting my head. She nips at my throat, and I shiver as she marks me as hers. "Mine," she growls in my ear. "You are mine." 

Tears spill down my face. She...wants _me_. And I belong here with her. "Yours, Mistress. I am yours," I breathe. My trust, my body, my soul is willingly given. 

Julia's mouth covers mine, and she kisses me deeply, thoroughly. Breaking the kiss, she moves back slightly. "Make me come, slave." 

For a moment, I'm confused. How in the hell am I supposed to manage that? I'm tied to a spanking stand and she's on my back. Then I feel her hips lower, and the soft fringe of her pubic hair brushes my fingers. A light bulb goes on in my head, and I stretch my bound hands up toward her. She sighs as I touch her, my fingertips lightly tracing her wet folds. Finding her tender nub, I massage it slowly, feeling her nails dig into my shoulders. Moving my fingers down, I slide two of them inside her, aiming unerringly for the ridged flesh on the upper part of her hot, slick channel. 

"Oh, yes, pet, right there...." She moves even closer, pressing against my back, grinding her clit into the heel of my hand. I rub my fingers back and forth over that sensitive spot. She rocks her hips in a rhythmic motion, her muscles tightening around my fingers. "So close, baby, I'm so close...." I stroke harder, hearing her breathing catch in her throat, then she's moaning and climaxing. 

When her body stops shuddering, she rests against me for a few moments, lightly kissing the back of my neck. Then she straightens, unfastening the buckles holding me in place. I slip off the stand to kneel on the floor, my head bowed. She touches my hair for a moment, then snaps my leash onto my collar. "Come on, pet. Let's get out of here." 

Painfully, I follow her through the house, my vision blinded by tears. My memories of being held by Lash have shaken me more than I realized, and the punishment I received from Julia has left me feeling open and vulnerable. I'm hurt further by the fact she seems oblivious to my agony, hurrying me along the corridor by swatting my genitals lightly with the end of my leash. 

Disoriented by my aching body and soul, I don't notice where Julia is leading me until we stop outside her office door. Opening it, she leads me inside, pushing the door closed. Dropping to her knees, she unfastens my leash and pulls me into her arms, rocking me, stroking my hair. "Whatever it is, it'll be okay. You're safe here, precious. I won't leave you alone." 

I cling to her, ashamed that I doubted her, that I thought she didn't see what I'm going through. "I'm sorry," I choke out. 

"It's okay, Blair. You understand why I had to punish you, why I couldn't comfort you before." 

I nod against her shoulder. "You had to make me use my safe word. You had to know that I know when to stop." 

She kisses away the wet tracks of my tears. "And you did. I'm very proud of you. That's a very hard thing for a slave to do, to take responsibility for their limitations. They want to surrender all of themselves, all decisions, to their Mistress. I refuse to allow that, because I don't know what you're feeling at every moment. I promise you, I won't punish you to that point again." 

Getting to her feet, she helps me lie down on my stomach on the couch, then walks behind the sofa, out of my line of site. "Mistress?" I call plaintively, still very uncomfortable with being alone. 

"Right here, precious." She comes out of the bathroom carrying a tube of ointment and a towel. Sitting down next to me, she spreads the medicine on her fingers, then very gently works it into my sore buttocks. Within a few minutes, I feel it working, the heat and the worst of the pain fading. Finished, she wipes her hands on the towel, then sets my arm in her lap as she unbuckles the wristband I'm still wearing. "You want to tell me why you freaked when I put the restraints on you?" 

Swallowing hard, I roll onto my side, offering her my other arm. "I--I was kidnapped by a serial killer four years ago. He--he put me in chains and tied me in a dentist's chair. He was going to kill me and take over my life." 

She gasps. 

I shrug, pretending it's nothing, that being tortured and terrorized are things I do before breakfast. She doesn't buy it. Her hazel eyes fill with tears, and she embraces me. I nearly crawl into her lap in my need for comfort. The story spills out, words tumbling over one another, until I'm once again in that cold, dark place. 

My tale stumbles to a halt, and she gently prods me to continue. "He chained you up and left you unconscious on the floor. Did he come back? Is that what you remembered when I tied you up?" I nod against her neck. "Did he hurt you?" 

I bite my lip. "I don't know. I wasn't really conscious, not completely. I think he--touched me. Maybe I blocked that out until now, I don't know. I have an image of him taking my clothes off, and just--looking at me. He was crazy; he killed people and then became them. He wanted to be me." I close my eyes, remembering cold fingers on my skin, touching my chest, tugging on my nipple ring until I scream behind the gag in my mouth. Growing bored, his hand moves lower..."Oh god..." I whisper. 

Julia hugs me closer, her hand in my hair pressing my head to her chest. "It's just a memory, Blair. It can't hurt you. You are safe here. I won't let anything hurt you." 

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to block it out, to shove the demon back in Pandora's box. "I don't want to remember...why is this coming back now?" 

She kisses my forehead. "Maybe because your subconscious knows you're finally ready to deal with it now. Fighting it is only going to make it worse, going to make it crop up when you least expect it. Better to face it, to shine a light on the darkness." 

Taking a deep breath, I quit struggling and let the memory come. "He's touching me...like he's memorizing me with his fingers, running them over my chest...down my stomach..." I dig my fingers into her arms. "He's touching my cock...oh god...oh god..." I feel like I'm going to be sick. "This is not happening...this is not happening...I got hard...I got hard for that psycho!" 

I'm fighting Julia's hold now, wanting to run, wanting to hide from my shame. Like earlier today, she refuses to let me go. 

"Easy, easy. It's all right, Blair. You're okay, he can't hurt you--" 

"Why? Why would I be turned on by that--that sick bastard?" 

She hugs me tighter, and I know she can feel my heart racing like a frightened rabbit's. "You were barely conscious, Blair. You didn't know where you were, who you were with. And you'd been conditioned to equate being tied up with pleasure. When he touched you, your body reacted the way it had been trained to." She pauses, then says, "I'm sorry. I'm responsible for that." Her guilt is almost palpable. 

"No. Oh, no, Mistress, Julia, I can't--I can't blame you. I--it was like you said. I didn't know what was going on, if I had, I wouldn't have reacted that way." I cling to that idea; the alternative is unthinkable. 

She rubs my back, then asks, "Do you remember anything else?" 

I shake my head. I vaguely recall him refastening my clothes and leaving. When he came back again, it was to carry me to his lair. "He didn't do anything else to me, just touched me, then left." I fall silent, not knowing what else to say. Closing my eyes, I lie there in her arms, feeling the memories slowly fading. 

Julia presses her cheek against my hair. "Are you sure you still want to do this?" she asks. 

I answer without hesitation. "Yes. I'm more convinced than ever that I need your help." 

"All right. We'll just have to take it slow and work through any lingering fears you have. And you, you use the damn safe word, okay? At the first instant you feel uncomfortable, emotionally or otherwise, all right?" 

"Yes, Mistress." 

Both of us are quiet for several minutes, then she says, "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. You ready for bed?" 

I nod against her shoulder, and she clips the leash to my collar once again, then leads me out of the office. 

* * *

Thirty minutes later, I've been bathed, a new anal plug has been inserted, and my cock and ball harness has been removed for the night. Now I'm lying next to Julia on her bed. She's underneath the covers, and like a big dog, I'm sprawled on my side next to her on top of the blanket. 

She's writing in a notebook as I doze, her left hand lazily petting my stomach. It's a nice, comfortable feeling, contrasting with the dull ache of my welts and the uncomfortably full sensation from the plug. Her hand slides down toward my semi-hard cock, but I'm deep in that not quite asleep, but definitely not fully awake state. Her touch creates a pleasant pressure inside my groin, and my body thrusts half-heartedly against her hand. She wraps her fingers around my now stiff cock and gives me several long, firm strokes. 

The orgasm rolls over me like a warm ocean wave, and I let out a long moan, feeling the hot spatter of come across my belly and chest. Without opening my eyes, I lick the sticky fluid from the fingers my Mistress presses against my lips. 

She nips lightly at my earlobe, then whispers, "Feel better, precious?" 

"Umm, hmm," I murmur, slumber tugging insistently at my now boneless body. 

Julia laughs softly, and covers me with my blanket. "Go to sleep, pet. I'll allow you to stay on the bed this once." 

She turns out the light and spoons up behind me, her arm going around my waist. Feeling safe and cared for after my long, painful day, I finally nod off. 

* * *


End file.
